Fabergé (A Becky White Thriller Book 3) by Jo Fenton

Author:Jo Fenton [Fenton, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: darkstroke books
Published: 2023-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Joanna

Wednesday

With Eric gone, Wendy arranges for a police guard to be left watching the Blackstones. We all agree that they’re in significant danger. Meanwhile, the rest of us need to get on with our lives. I turn my attention back to the egg heist. We have no clues to date, and a meeting with Roger is planned for Friday to update him on our progress.

It’s now Wednesday afternoon, and my research from the last two days has felt like a waste of time, except that I’m now considerably more knowledgeable about the Fabergé family and their link to the Romanovs. It’s been hard to concentrate this week. I’ve been checking in with Anastasia at least twice a day, and I know Becky has too. Despite Wendy’s team of guards, I’m twitchy about Eric being on the loose. His disappearance has hitched him up the suspects list, and it’s almost certain that he was involved in the kidnapping of Tania.

I check my phone for the hundredth time since I sat down at the laptop an hour ago. Glen has booked a table at a local restaurant for this evening. He’s got the neighbour lined up to watch his dad, and everything is organised and ready, so there’s no reason for him to message me again, but I’m like a bloody teenager expecting some sort of sign that he likes me enough to say hello for the sake of it.

I roll my eyes, frustrated with my stupidity. Glen’s lovely, and we’re getting on great, but he’s got far more important things to worry about than my anxieties.

With a considerable effort, I return my attention to the screen, and I actually get absorbed in a description of the Coronation Egg, presented by Nicholas II to his wife in 1897. My phone rings, and my heart rate seems to double in an instant. I check the screen before answering. It’s an unknown number. Bugger. Probably someone else wanting to fix internet issues I don’t have, or offer me compensation for the car accident that never took place. I don’t answer, but a minute later the caller rings back. I shrug mentally and hit the Connect button.

“Joanna! You’ve been avoiding me.” Shit. It’s my bastard ex-husband. I blocked him last time.

“You’ve changed your number.” There’s plenty more I could say, but this will do for starters. Heart rate increases further – the essential organ is pounding so hard I feel sick. Too much history and far too much of a threat. “And while we’re talking about it, you’re not allowed to contact me. So what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Burner phone, love. And I wanted to let you know I’ve got some money coming in. One of my pals has got me a couple of fake passports, and one of them has your photo on it. We’re going on a little trip.”

“I’m going nowhere with you. Get out of my life. You ditched me at the one time I could have done with your support.

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